Unnecessary
by repmetsyrrah
Summary: Martha Kent's son has a problem, luckily, his mother can read him like a book. Oneshot.


**A/N:**Written for the August 2011 FicGrab at EyesSkyward, prompt: Final. Third in my 'Raising Clark' series of oneshots but can stand alone.

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"Sit down," Jonathan Kent ordered his son. "I managed long before you came along and I can manage today too."

"But, Dad, I am here," Clark protested, stuck in an odd half-sitting, half-standing pose as he watched his father pull on his gumboots.

"And I'm not an old man yet," Jonathan chuckled, "now sit down and enjoy your first day of holidays. There'll be plenty of chores for you over the rest of the summer, don't you worry."

The fifteen year old sighed but finally relented, sitting back on his chair and reaching for some toast from the assortment of breakfast food his mother had set on the table.

Martha smiled at the interaction, kissing her husband before he went out to complete the early-morning chores on the farm. Clark was a good boy but he had yet to understand that his father sometimes liked to take things at a normal pace- not to mention liked to give his son a break every now and then.

Not that Clark ever seemed to need it. Martha sighed inwardly and returned to clearing away her husband's dishes. If someone had told her fifteen years ago she'd be raising a super-powered boy who fell from the sky… well, really, no one ever would have because the idea was too ridiculous.

"Everything okay?" she asked her son, surprised he hadn't spoken yet. It was the first day of summer holidays, he had to have plans. He usually got excited on the first day, telling her about what he planned to accomplish in his time off school but she hadn't heard anything out of him save 'good morning' and the conversation with his father.

"Fine," he said, his tone too casual.

"Are you going out today?" She asked him, "I was talking to Mrs. Ross yesterday and she said Pete was planning to go down to the lake with some friends."

"Yeah, maybe." Clark shrugged, "Might go down later, say I caught a ride to the turn-off or something," he muttered, pushing his toast around on his plate.

Martha frowned and shook her head. _Really_, her boys, they could be so oblivious sometimes. Even Jonathan still thought she didn't notice when something was on his mind. And Clark hadn't had nearly as long as his father to perfect his act- the boy was an open book.

Martha wiped her hands on the tea towel and sat down at the table. "Okay, talk," she ordered the solemn looking teenager .

Clark looked startled by her words and Martha fought not to roll her eyes. Honestly, this boy. The chickens could have noticed something was up with him today and he thought his own mother wouldn't?

"Did something happen at school?"

"Sort of," Clark admitted. "It was in the English final… You know how I've been starting to hear really well?"

Martha nodded, after fifteen years of raising a son who came to her in a spaceship, she hadn't even batted an eyelid when Clark had come to her and Jonathan telling them he could now _hear_ what was happening two towns over.

"Well, it turns out Marcy Douglas likes to think out loud," Clark told her. "I wasn't trying to listen at all but she was just muttering really quietly but I overheard it. I didn't mean to," he added hurriedly.

"And you heard an answer?" Martha guessed.

"Only one, I heard her working it out before I realized and stopped. But when I came to that question, it was multi-choice," Clark continued, "and…"

"You couldn't get her answer out of your mind?" Martha asked when he trailed off.

Clark bit his lip and nodded.

"Did you try and work it out yourself?"

"_Yeah_," he told her, his eyes widening like he couldn't believe she'd even suggest she'd ask such a question. "But… I got the same answer as her and…

"You couldn't get it out of your head that you only got there because you'd overheard Marcy?"

Clark nodded. "Do you think I should tell Mr. Haddock?" He looked up with such worry in his eyes Martha almost wanted to laugh. She only managed to stop herself out because she knew it wouldn't make Clark feel any better.

He was such a serious child sometimes.

"I'm going to tell you a story," Martha started instead, "back when I was you age, which was not too long ago," she told him, pleased to see him relaxed enough raise an eyebrow in mock disbelief, "I was sitting a math test. It wasn't as important as a final but I was still a bit nervous and about ten minutes in I was a bit lost and I couldn't help hearing the boy beside me still writing furiously. It wasn't too distracting but all of a sudden, halfway through, he stopped and it was such a sudden change without thinking I turned to look at what had caused it."

"What did you see?"

"Absolutely nothing," Martha told him, "but my teacher on the other hand saw me and sent me straight to the principal's office where I got the strap and a week of staying after school."

"That's so unfair!" Clark looked horrified.

"Maybe," Martha agreed, "but I definitely never took my eyes off my own paper again."

"But you didn't really mean to look in the first place."

"And you didn't mean to overhear Marcy Douglas muttering to herself, did you?"

Clark shook his head. "But I did."

"Yes, you did, but that doesn't make you a cheater, Clark," she assured him. "And you told me you did do your own working on the answer anyway."

"So you don't think I should tell anyone?"

"Well, what would you say for a start?" Martha asked, raising an eyebrow, "If Marcy was _talking _out loud you wouldn't be the only one to know but if she was speaking quiet enough that the person next to her didn't hear, how would you explain you did?"

"Oh…" Clark clearly hadn't thought of that.

"And remember my story? You're right, I got punished unfairly, I didn't intend to cheat and neither did you. Even if you did figure out a plausible story and turned yourself in, any thing they did to you would be just as unfair as my punishment was."

"You think?"

"I know," she assured him, "you're not a cheater, Clark. _Accidentally_ overhearing _one_ answer on _one_ test doesn't make you a bad person."

"I still feel bad about it," he sighed, though Martha was pleased to see her talk had had some effect and he looked less guilty than before.

"Well, why don't you do something to get your mind off it? Go down to the lake with Pete and all your other friends."

"Hmmm…" Clark still didn't look convinced.

"Lana might be there," Martha added, her tone completely innocent. She hid a smile and busied herself with clearing the table.

"Actually, maybe I will head down," Clark said, not quite able to keep his tone completely casual.

"I thought you might," Martha chuckled.

Biology be damned, she thought with a smile as Clark went to go get ready, that boy was exactly like his father. An open book.

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